Hesitancy
by Heather Giesbrecht
Summary: Lestat said that the English were far more superstitious than Americans. Thomas/Lucille, Claudia/Thomas. Complete.


_Author's Note:_ In the Crimson Peak Novelization there's a sentence or two where Thomas notes that they went to New Orleans and Lucille bought a voodoo doll. Also, Lestat, Louis and Claudia were in New Orleans for at least a hundred years, though it maybe a bit A/U for Interview it's been a while since I've watched the movie. Well, now you where this came from and I hope you enjoy.

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 **Hesitancy**

Thomas had left his and Lucille's hotel behind for the French Quarter. His sister had declined to come along, instead choosing to stay in her room and examine the voodoo doll she'd bought earlier. It was a shame because the upper section of the Quarter with its wrought black iron fences, gardens and plantation mansions was just gorgeous in the moonlight. A child's sudden plaintive cry drew his eye to the rightmost side of the street.

She was small, her golden hair lay in waves upon her back and she was clad in a little crimson dress and hat while her skin was even paler than his own. Even from where he stood he felt that something was wrong, there was a queer stillness in the air about her. If he were honest in his opinions he thought that she looked rather like a ghost. Dear old Finlay, the only servant that the Sharpe family still retained, had long warned him of angry ghosts that killed the people unfortunate enough to try to help them.

Claudia saw the man's hesitancy the moment it flitted across his innocent face and through those gorgeous sapphire eyes. Oh those eyes, they were so like Lestat's that she could have happily drowned in them. Lestat said that the English were far more superstitious than Americans, so she would have to work harder to convince Sir Thomas to...help her. Slowly, she approached him, heard his heartbeat racing as she asked in a quavering voice, "Please sir could you help me find my father ?"

She could almost see the thoughts swirling thick as flies through his mind. They were thus: what if she was telling the truth, what if she were some cutthroat's assistant whether it were true or not could he simply leave her alone ? Though to a mortal Thomas's face would have stayed perfectly still she was able to see the faint trembling of the rose pink lips and the way that the ivory skinned fingers involuntarily twitched. Also she saw the moment that he gave in, his lips pressing together as he steeled himself. The ebony frock coat rustled as he crouched before her, a few strayed onyx curls gleaming from beneath his top hat. Ah, curse Lestat for she wanted Thomas for her own.

His voice was silken, near mesmerizing as her father's, but far more earnest. "Where did you last see him, child ?"

Nervously, Thomas accepted the little girl's oddly firm hand and let her guide him across the cobblestones. They approached an alley, as if in warning the gas lamp that lit the way was covered in creeping strangling vines. His eyes darted when something melted from the far shadows, another man with the same too pale skin as the girl, the same golden hair, but confined under a top hat. The man's eyes were so similar in their icy hue and unblinking focus to Lucille's that it briefly paralyzed him.

Another too fluid step forward from the thing and instinctive fear had him trying to back away. Yet he found that he could not as the girl refused to release him. "Not a ghost at all then what are you ? What queer creatures are you ? Tell me so much at least !"

The man's voice was tinged with the slightest of muddled accents, "If it will please you, my good man. Quite simply we are vampires."

Claudia let go of Thomas's hand when Lestat sprang. It was like watching a golden devil fight an onyx angel, the angel never stood a chance. A startled cry fled her pretty's lips as Lestat's fangs sank deeply into his throat. Desperate strength had the angel clawing at the devil's arms. Both flesh and black cotton tore as the devil pulled away and with a savage grin laid the angel down on the street. The rain that she had smelled earlier pattered down as she crouched beside her dying angel.

"Oh leave him alone, Claudia ! It was his own fault for trusting you."

Gently, she picked up the fallen top hat to place it on the barely moving chest. "Good night, dear thing." She smoothed the onyx curls as Thomas's breathing stopped with a rattle and the pretty eyes fluttered shut forever.

Still impatient Lestat scooped her up and jumped onto the alley wall. He glanced down at her yet another cruel murmur leaving his lips, "You only liked him because you spied on him and his sister. You wished that it was you under him instead of that fully grown, lovely Lucille. You know it never would have happened, darling, either you would have been far too old or too young for him."

The memory taunted her, the graceful bodies twined in sensual embrace, heartbeats quickening as Lestat plucked her from the window sill. "Why do you keep saying such things, Lestat ? First you say that I will never grow up then you pull me from a thing I enjoy and now you kill him." She clutched his shoulders and leaned back to look at him, "You're not fair, Lestat, your so horrible and yet somehow I love you so."

Lestat had started back towards their apartment and Louis. "I only emulate life itself, little one, we can never have all that we desire. No matter how you wish it you cannot return to life as you knew it nor can anyone else."

A sadistic grin crossed Lestat's face as a scream rent the air and she wished that she would have stopped him instead. Not only would herself and Louis be free from Lestat if he were to die, but Thomas too would be avenged. She buried her head against his neck to hide the wicked smile that formed on her lips as a plan formed in her mind. Yes, Lestat would die tomorrow night.


End file.
